


these stories have happy endings

by Kierkegarden



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death, F/M, Family, My First Work in This Fandom, Oneshot, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 23:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14555991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kierkegarden/pseuds/Kierkegarden
Summary: Clint wonders if he made the right decision.





	these stories have happy endings

“It’s kind of like a highschool reunion,” Clint says, “where all your old friends can make it but something comes up, your flight is delayed or something. That weird feeling when everyone’s there but you.”

“Not everyone.” Clint can hear the strained smile in Natasha’s voice, over the rustle of movement and static, “and I don’t know what kind of high school you went to, Clint, but I don't remember it being so dangerous.”

“I can be there, you know,” He lowers his voice as he leans all the way back on the recliner. The lights are off in all of his children’s bedrooms and the faintest glow can be seen from the crack below his own bedroom door. Laura is probably still awake, waiting for him to come in and whisper a story in her ear so that she can drift off peacefully in his arms.   
Natasha laughs -- the clipped ghost of a real one. The sound of someone who hasn't laughed for some time. “Out of the question. You’re retired. Go be with your wife. It’s past midnight there.”

“Tony retired too.”

Radio silence before an exasperated sigh. “ _Sleep_ , Clint.”

“I take that to mean nobody’s heard from him.”

“Sleep.”

Natasha can be authoritative when she wants to be. It doesn't work on Clint but he knows better than to argue.

 

(Sometimes, Clint will slip little jokes into the stories to see if Laura is still awake. If she laughs, he’ll keep talking - spinning silly stories until her breathing becomes heavy and calm. If she’s quiet, he’ll roll himself over and let his own eyes shut. Even when the story's endings don’t make sense, he always makes sure that they are happy. Always.)

“So,” Clint jokes over speakerphone, as he pulls dusty white gym socks over his dusty white toes, “how’s the reunion?”

“You know, the usual. The nerds employ the jocks now, and my ex-boyfriend is selling meth out of his dad’s pickup.” Natasha seems to be in better spirits, although a sleeplessness lurks under her sardonic tone.

Clint laces up his gardening shoes. He imagines he must look like anybody. “Wow, Bruce is really struggling that bad, huh?”

Natasha is icy again. Clint instantly knows that he hit a nerve.

“My offer still stands, 'Tasha,” he says in earnest - although through the window he sees Nathaniel picking radishes with a giant smile on his face and secretly hopes she denies him, “if you need help fighting off the popular kids. Or saving the world....”

“You’re incorrigible. You’re as bad as Tony.”

“Except I’m very much not missing. I’m a plane ticket away.” Clint switches the speakerphone off, nestling the phone between his shoulder and head, as he slides the screen door wide open. “ -- hey, wash those radishes before putting them in your mouth!”

He can hear Natasha’s smile return to her voice. “You sound busy. I should let you go.”

“Thanks for picking up. Please keep telling me what’s happening.” Clint says, and he means it, "Please."

He almost thinks Natasha’s hung up on him when he hears something muffled on the other side of the line.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Natasha says, “Just that you’re lucky you didn’t peak in highschool.”

 

(“There was a little bunny,” Clint lets his words slip out in a musical whisper next to Laura’s ear, “who sold meth out of his father’s pickup truck.”

There is no hint of laughter, just soft breath, warm skin and a wisp of Laura’s hair tickling his nose. It smells like the evening primrose shampoo she buys when she’s wishing she was younger.

“The bunny superhero made sure he went to jail because that sort of crime is not to be tolerated in the state of Bunsylvania.”

Clint snorts at his own jokes and heaves himself into a fetal position, trying not to think about the end of the world.)

 

“We’re about to go out there,” Natasha says through heavy, uneven breaths, “there’s no time to explain.”

“Promise me,” Clint says, “promise me that I made the right choice to stay back this time.”

“It was never an option.” 

Clint sits on the corner of his bed looking out into the garden where birds are already singing spring hymns into barely-green trees. He could be anyone. He feels empty.

“I know you can do it,” he says, “You always win. Always.”

 

Laura makes salad dressing from scratch the way her mother taught her to. Clint has taken up baking. (You’ve always had a sharp eye for measurements, Laura jokes.) Salad and bread always taste better freshly grown and freshly made and fresh -- spring is meant for rebirth. Clint feels born anew, laying salad, bread, and spaghetti out on the table.

He watches Cooper pick around his spaghetti and he feels like anyone. He feels alright.

“What are you thinking about?” Laura wraps her arms around his shoulders as she gets up to get herself more water from the machine on the fridge. 

“Nothing,” Clint says, and then he says, “Lila. No electronics at the table.” 

Lila sheepishly puts up the handheld game she was playing. "Sorry, dad."

“She was right,” Clint says aloud as he rises to clear everyone’s plates, “This is my best life. I made the right choice.” He leans in to brush the stubborn lock of hair from Laura’s cheek -- leans in to kiss her -- and she shutters. She shutters and her eyes go wide and his eyes go wide as she crumbles into dust.

**Author's Note:**

> Very quick one shot and my first work in the fandom. Let me know what you think!


End file.
